A day at the parks
by Mykous
Summary: What seemed like a simple mission turned into a much more dangerous and agonizing experience for one Okumura Rin. And here, he had thought amusement parks were relaxing...


"Now... what kind of mechanism does it work on?" Amaimon says, unsheathing the Koma blade.

Letting out a started gasp, Rin feels the flames wash over him again, his true form unleashed as the power floods back into his system and he growls to himself, reminding himself that now is not the time to be preoccupied with it, to let it bother him...

Until the so-called Amaimon did it again... and again... and wave after wave flooded him, leaving him exhausted when the sword was sheathed and exhilarated as soon as it was released, and over and over...

_Fuck, now is not the time for this, get a hold of yourself!_ he screams inwardly, clenching his hands, nails digging into his palms, because those are nails damn it and not c...

_It doesn't matter. Focus. Amaimon. Get your sword back_ he commands himself with what self-control he can muster as his brother finally decides to stop playing, and he lunges, knocking the head off of the Mephisto statue._ Serves the bastard right_, he thinks. The ride starts up as Amaimon jumps onto it, and he smirks. _So that's how you want to play... Fine, we'll play._

He lunges, gripping the rings as he pulls himself up the rail, only to see the cart coming down far too fast. _You've got to be kidding me..._ he groans, leaping out of the way only to be stopped by Amaimon as he falls, smashing into the railing as his brother grabs him and continues the onslaught.

_Fuck... no, I can't..._ he says, vision fading as a red haze creeps in, and he finds he can't move, can't speak. _What... my body is moving on it's own... how is that even..._ he panics, as the red haze begins to block out his vision entirely.

Just as his vision fades to a blurry red haze, a scream cuts through the air, and through the fog. "Shiemi!?"he yells, turning around sharply and watching everything almost in slow-motion as the beam falls, directly above where Shiemi lay. _I'm not going to make it, I'm not going to make it, do something, do something, do **anything** you idiot!_ he shrieks, instinct taking over as he jerks up a hand, flames blazing forward and blasting the beam away as he falls, vision fading to a normal black this time.

_Good..._ he thinks, sinking gratefully into unconsciousness only to be roughly grabbed and thrown into a haphazard sitting position. _Wha th' hell?_ he hazily thinks, getting to his feet as best he can, panting and half-hunched over, until Amaimon abruptly sheathes the sword and tosses it back. The sudden rush of power leaving him brought him to his knees as he begged for unconsciousness, only to bitterly realize it wasn't coming. _Nothing can ever just be that easy, can it? Of course not..._

_I did it again... just like before... I would've hurt them... I... I would've hurt all of them... and this time I'm not some little kid... I... I could've **killed** them..._ he realizes with a sinking feeling,_ Yukio was right... I'm a threat..._

He barely registers Shiemi running over to him until she's reaching out, and he reacts on autopilot, roughly slapping her hand away before he realizes what he did. "I'm sorry," he mumbles, and he really is, he's so sorry, so sorry for everything, but the easy forgiveness is evident in her eyes because she doesn't know, doesn't know what he's apologizing for, doesn't know that just his freaking existence is something to be sorry for.

Events follow blankly, and he's introduced to Shura, and they go home, Yukio pretending to treat his wounds to appease Shiemi because they both know they'll be healed soon and it's a waste of supplies. _Anything used on me is wasted._

When they arrive back at their dorm, finally, he feels two centuries too old and he collapses onto his bed, curling under the covers and hugging his pillow and using every tiny scrap of dignity, self-control and restraint he has left to not cry, because he doesn't deserve tears, it's his fault and he shouldn't cry over his own mistakes.

It's no surprise to him, or to his brother, that by the time he drifts into an uneasy and haunted sleep, his pillow is soaked through and, not for the first time, Yukio whispers apologies to his sleeping form, sorry for not protecting him, sorry for not preventing this, sorry for never being able to live up to anyone's expectations, sorry for never being able to do _anything..._

Yukio goes to bed as utterly defeated as his older brother, but he doesn't cry. Rin cried enough for the both of them... and Yukio isn't sure he even knows how to cry anymore.

* * *

My first random plot bunny, I'm so proud. This is basically Rin's POV during episode 12, but with a much more logical and demonically-aware Rin and likely more angst than the entire four-season-box-set. Why can't I ever get this much amazing inspiration for my main story? Bunnies... I need you on THAT plotline. Ah well, anyway, I hope 'ya enjoyed the one-shot, and thanks for stopping by to read it.


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